Spice on the Spring Wind
by nerdymum
Summary: As a young assassin, Thane Krios is ordered to take out a government traitor, but is suddenly stopped from completing his mission when a lovely young woman blocks his shot. Rated M for slight violence and gore. This piece of literature is a one-shot and will not be continued with additional material. Beta'd by barbexy on dA.


Spice on the Spring Wind

By: Nerdymum

Disclaimer: This fanfiction has not been written or shared for any monetary profit. All names, recognizable races, and places are sole property of BioWare.

* * *

Despite the perpetual hard storms that consistently rained on the transparent dome covering the island the controlled temperature within the environment was warm and fragrant with the scent of the blossoming spice lilies on the gentle breeze. Most of the citizens of the city were preparing for the upcoming celebration of Enkindler's Day, a holiday that not only was important to the native Hanar but also marked the anniversary of the Drell and the aquatic sentient creatures' first meeting. For a large majority of those participating in the events it was a joyous occasion.

Everywhere one looked, there was something happening to commemorate the day. Children danced around to music being performed by street musicians, swinging long ribbons around in wide circles as they spun. Laughter rang above the dull roar of unintelligible chatting. Happiness was etched on every face in the form of smiles so wide eyes were often crinkled into tight squints. Under normal circumstances the young drell who was watching the crowd would've been among the throng enjoying the day.

But he wasn't there to be a part of the merriment. He was there for another reason, possibly just as important as the holiday but, with any luck, would never be known. Among the brightly colored crowd was a government traitor. Word was that the targeted subject had been seen working with slavers who were kidnapping Hanar living on outlying colonies and the rumor spreading around the Illuminated Primacy meant he was quickly moving in on Kahje.

He was easy enough to spot; somewhat pudgy for a drell, draped in rich, thick clothes, dark red skin, and stared at those around him with utter disdain. He sneered at a young child who offered him a spice lily, slapping it out of her hand with disgust before watching her run away in tears. A woman next to him shook her head and, according to the skill of reading lips, hissed a derogatory term at him before walking away.

The young assassin waiting patiently on the rooftop remained calm and still in preparation for the shot that would end the traitor's life. He jumped from building to building, corner to corner, quietly stalking his prey for that perfect moment. There would be witnesses to the assassination, but no one would see him take the shot. He always made sure of that. No one ever saw him.

A few hours passed by, nearly twilight he estimated by the pale orange color quickly filling the atmosphere, and he was finally able to find a good angle to finish his job. There were few people around the target which meant there would be very little chance of collateral damage. In a flash, he had lifted the long sniper rifle against his shoulder and peered down the scope. The faint tremor of parallax caused the magnified image of the target to quiver in rhythm to his heartbeat but not enough to deter him from his goal. His finger brushed against the trigger and he stopped his breath, finding his calm as he entered "the zone". No hesitation entered his mind; it had been trained out of him in his youth. The red dot of the rifle's laser quivered against the target's head. All would be over when his fingertip reached the trigger's break…

But suddenly, at the very last instant, a flash of dark blue rushed across his sight and he quickly moved his finger away. When his eyes refocused, the small red mark was no longer on the traitor's skull but centered against the neck of a young woman. She was staring towards the direction he was seated though he was positive she couldn't see him lurking in the shadows of the building he had been perched upon. He leaned back, taking his eye away from the scope to see her small frame standing firm on the ground below. She looked so small and insignificant from the height he was stationed, but when he gazed through the glass again her face came rushing back.

There wasn't anything truly remarkable about her that he could see. She was fairly attractive, possessing the resonant slender figure of an adolescent girl transitioning into maturity. Her skin was a soft yellow sheen with brown patches and marks along her cheeks and head. Her eyes, however, immediately struck his soul. Flecks of rich orange and magenta sparkled against the liquid gold of the striking irises. There was no fear in those sunset-colored eyes; only fury.

Her pursed lips pulled into a curling sneer before she spoke. He couldn't hear her voice but the words she mouthed screamed into his mind.

"How dare you?!"

Left breathless and confused, the assassin dropped the gun from his shoulder and cradled it in his arms. He switched off the laser and stared down at the barrel. He had been kept from completing his task. A lot of explaining would have to be given to the Primacy as to why he couldn't take his shot. He peered back over the edge of the building to see both the woman with the beautiful eyes and the target no longer around. Did she warn him? Was she there to protect him?

Sighing, he collapsed the rifle and slung it across his back before carefully descending from the rooftop. There would be another chance, he was sure. He decided to return to his small apartment to contemplate his next strategy.

Late that evening he couldn't sleep. There was no guilt for not finishing his job however; his contact assured him the target could be easily traced again. He got up from his bed to retrieve a drink of water, feeling feverish from the lack of sleep. His eyelids fluttered shut and he was once again back on the rooftop staring into those angry gold eyes. The anonymous girl haunted him and while he tried ignoring the memory, she wouldn't disappear.

Earlier, after the brief discussion with the contact, he turned on his holoscreen in an attempt to calm his irritation but found no relief. He sketched her face on several sheets of paper, capturing her features as he had seen them in his scope. The edges of her head and body were fuzzy but her eyes and mouth had been crystal clear. He could still read those pouty lips, admonishing him for his actions. Glancing over his shoulder he saw the small stack of portraits done by his quick but elegant hand staring back at him through the darkness.

He took one last drink of cold water before growling to himself and walking back towards his bed in hopes of finding sleep. The last thought on his mind was the desperate need to discover who she was and why the thought of her wouldn't leave him alone. If she was protecting the traitor, he feared her fate would be in his hands. But if she was an innocent among the crowd then she was remarkably brave for her actions. Either way he had to see her again.

O . . . O . . . O

It wasn't necessarily the best position to find him in but it was now or never. He stared through his scope and peered down into the alley, catching his target indisposed; in other words, urinating on the wall. Most likely, the traitor was drunk and it wasn't surprising. He had been seen frequenting the nightclubs and exotic dance bars all throughout the previous evening. At least he had some entertainment before his inevitable death. A wry smile snaked up his lips knowing that at least this job would be finished within a matter of seconds.

The sound of the shot followed the sight of the faint pink mist exiting the small wound in his target's skull and he knew the traitor was dead. He watched the husky body crumble to the ground in a clumsy heap and the fingers twitch as the last remnants of the brain's activity faded away. In less than a minute the final pumps of his heart caused the thick red blood to pool onto the ground. Luck was on the assassin's side that time; there were no witnesses to the death, no bystanders to block his shot. He collapsed the rifle and opened his console to inform his contact of the finished deed. It was another notch on his proverbial gun case; a clean and perfect kill.

After the confirmation he scrolled the list of contacts in his omni-tool and stopped on the image of the girl who had blocked his shot the first time. It didn't take long to track down her profile and when he did find her face again his heart skipped a beat. He had her name, her age, discovered she was a student attending the local University, and that she came from a good family. There was no criminal record or any indication that she could've possibly been involved with the traitor. She was simply protecting a stranger from injury, risking her life for someone else.

He knew where he would find her at this time of the day and he quickly left the tall skyscraper to catch up with her before she left for home. He passed a street florist and stopped for a moment to purchase a small bouquet of spice lilies, breathing in the scent which immediately drew him back into that second where her defiance challenged his soul, then summoned a personal taxi to chauffeur him to his next destination. In the taxi he contemplated on just what he would say to her. Would he tell her how she remained in his foremost thoughts, compliment her bravery, or would he simply stare into those large, golden eyes and go speechless?

The taxi slowed to a stop before the main stretch of the University campus and his heart jumped in his chest as he easily spotted her crossing the concourse. She was alone, clasping a single book to her breast, and wore a content expression on her face. He quickly slid his chit through the payment terminal and hopped out of the cab. He followed her for a short distance into the nearby park where she took a seat on a bench and began reading her book.

His mouth dried and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He couldn't figure out why he was so nervous. For years he had faced hundreds of dangerous situations; made a few mistakes that nearly took his own life, faced adversaries that challenged his skills as a master assassin, and none of these made his stomach churn with anxiety as meeting this mysterious young woman face to face did. He glanced down at the dark red flowers, perhaps not as vibrant in his sight as they would be in hers, and wondered if this would simply be a failed attempt.

In fact, he wasn't even sure why he needed to see her. He spent hours contemplating this moment, praying to the gods on why she stayed so prominent in his mind. Perhaps she was simply a symbol of mortality and how precious life could be. Perhaps she was a messenger from Arashu, or even Arashu herself.

He slowly approached her bench, noting that she had curled into a comfortable little ball as she immersed herself in whatever she was reading and munched on salted kelp crisps. His dry breath nearly choked him and he inwardly cursed his boyish tendencies for suddenly becoming awkward and clumsy. He couldn't decide on hiding the small bouquet at his back or leaving it in before him for her to see as a sort of offering. A gentle, polite clearing of his throat interrupted her reading and he froze in place when those sunset eyes met his.

"H-hello, Irikah," he began in a husky, trembling voice. "I know you don't know who I am, but, I-I," he stumbled over his words. How exactly would he explain himself to her, he wondered. If he mentioned that he had been following her she may run away for fear of him. And if he told her why he was searching for her she may possibly call the police and have him arrested.

He sighed and stared down at the lilies, breathing in the rich spicy scent that permeated the air the day he first saw her. Without warning, he had dropped to his knees and pressed a hand to his rapidly beating heart. He watched her already wide eyes flare open wider while she closed her book and sat up to attention. He needed her pardon; his soul depended on it.

"Please, forgive me," he whispered in anguish.

The young woman regarded him with concern and confusion.

"Why?" she asked. Her voice was smooth, delicate, and gentle even with the graveled vibrato in her throat.

"Because I could have killed you," he admitted. He didn't dare look in her eyes for fear of seeing the searing anger once again.

"So you're the stranger who was going to kill that man a few days ago at the Enkindler's Day gathering," she accused in an even tone.

"Yes," he nodded and let his hands fall limply to his sides, dropping the lilies on the ground.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence but he was surprised that she hadn't moved. When he dared to glance back up she had went back to sitting into a neat ball with her book resting on her knees. She studied him with a blank expression but those eyes, those brilliantly colored eyes sparkled vividly with intelligence and speculation.

"Why did you come looking for me? Is it for revenge?"

He shook his head and felt any last bit of his pride drop away. He would expose every ounce of his heart to her if he had to.

"No. I-I had to see you again. I can't stop thinking about you. You didn't even know who that man was, what kind of person he could have been, and yet you risked your life to save him. I've never seen anyone do the kind of thing that you did, especially with such determination."

"You're Compacted, aren't you?" she asked calmly. He nodded again, this time remaining silent.

"Then you must not know many generous people in your life."

"No," he sighed.

She stood up from her seat and he waited for her to run away. Instead she stooped down before him and lifted his chin to stare into his eyes, and he was filled with awe and admiration for her. Her touch was just as soft and gentle as he imagined. She flicked her eyes down to the spice lilies resting at his knees then began to smile. It was, perhaps, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen causing him to immediately fall in love.

"Are those meant for me?"

He nodded, completely speechless.

She cradled the flowers into the crook of one arm then helped him stand back up, leading him towards her bench.

"Do you like philosophy?" she asked, scooting closer to him as they sat down. He stared with suspicion at the blue-bounded book in her delicate hands and shrugged with ignorance.

"I'm afraid I haven't studied the subject that often."

Her mouth pursed into a little "o" but she opened the book anyway and placed it onto his lap. He began reading and found that his anxiety had started to dissipate.

"What is your name?" her voice brought him back to the present and he felt his throat flush with hot blood.

"Thane," he replied quietly. He looked back up and watched her press her delicate nose into the spice lilies to inhale the rich perfume. A happy smile formed on his lips. "Thane Krios."


End file.
